The Kachinas
by MikeRayburn2481
Summary: 16th century: the American Southwest. A small tribe of peaceful Hopi face the might of the Navajo nation without the lizard gods, the kachinas, who have abandoned them...or so they think.


Ahote scanned the valley below. The sun was setting behind him, obscuring him from the sharp eyes of the Navajo scouts below. For centuries his people, the Hopi, had managed to resist the incursions of their much larger neighbors. But now they were surrounded. The Navajo had seized lands from Hawikuh in the east to the Black mesa in the west. Which put the center of the small Hopi nation, Awatovi, right in the middle.

Ahote himself represented the smallest portion of Hopi society, the warriors. Unlike their warlike neighbors to the east, his people prized peace, prophecy, and devotion to the Gods through submission. And for ages those gods, the Kachinas, had answered their devotion with protection. Ahote knew the stories by heart; The Navajo or Apache were closing in on Awatovi, blotting out the horizon with their numbers. And just when all seemed lost the Kachinas would arrive like the great spirits they were, decimating the enemy with their blue fire. A single appearance by the gods could stave off any attacks for generations. The problem was it had been too many generations since the gods appeared, and now their enemies forgot why they had allowed this small nation to flourish in the heart of their own.

He tapped Chua on the arm, and quietly they began a slow belly crawl backwards over the hot rock, before pushing themselves up and low running to their horses. They galloped the hour back to Awatovi through the canyons and valleys of Hoozdo Hahoozdo. His horse, Hania, barely slowing down as the cooling air of nightfall revitalized the amazing horse.

It was nightfall when they arrived in the ancient stone city. A hundred generations ago the Kachinas had landed on this plateau, the Mogollon Rim, and sanctified it. Today it was home to eight thousand of his people. Only Oraibi came close to it in size and grandeur with its three thousand residents.

Ahote gave his horse to his wife, Powaqa, and then took her face in his hands before kissing her nose. She smiled a nervous smile and then asked the question with her eyes. Ahote shook his head, but only enough for his wife to see. At this point he believed the people should be worried…but it was not his place to tell them.

He and Chua made for the tallest structure in the village; the circular meeting hall sat on a mini plateau on the plateau, and the rest of the village was built like a defensive mote around it, the village ending at a ledge overlooking Oqtupqa, the Great Canyon. Where supposedly the Kachinas had saved their earliest ancestors from evil black lizard people with great fire from the sky. The visible section of Awatovi was only their first line of defense though, as their ancestors, the Anasazi, had built the first village into the rock face of the Mogollan Rim, and the back of the plateau still held a stone stairway down to the hidden village below.

Ahote and Chua moved briskly up the winding walkways, past giggling women and excited children. He was eager to plead his case for an active defense and an alliance with the Zuni to the north.

The elder Makya had seen over sixty summers, making him the oldest person in the village by a handful. As Ahote walked into the clay adobe he saw the chieftain holding council with the other elders. Makya was a wise man, and a peaceful man…and though Ahote did not share the Elder's pacifism, he respected him. He felt, or rather hoped, the feeling was mutual. Makya was not so blind in his subservient devotion to the gods that he believed the Hopi could survive without warriors like himself.

After waiting for the pipe to extinguish Ahote was beckoned to join the circle. The wrinkled man offered to relight the pipe but Ahote waved him away.

"Tell me what you see Ahote, I know you're eager to."

"Navajo…by the thousands Chief Makya. Their numbers blot out the horizon near the Great Rift," he said lacing his words with the urgency they deserved.

After an agonizing moment Makya looked up again, "and what do you suggest we do Ahote?"

The warrior looked dumbfounded before he found his voice, "what should we do Elder? We should tell the people and begin building our defenses. We have waited too long already!"

The look from Makya shamed him. He was too young and inexperienced to speak to an Elder that way, but his deliberation was maddening.

After an interminable silence he spoke again. "We will call on the Kachinas. We will put our faith in their protection."

Ahote stood, "that will not be enough! The gods have abandoned us!"

He did not give the old chief a chance at another cryptic rebuke.

He met Chua outside the hut. "Are we to make war?"

"War is being made on us Chua! And still they dither with their prayers" he bit, stopping at the rocky outcrop that looked out over the now darkened canyon. "We will lead the defense without their blessing. Get Hototo and Pahana up here."

"Can we do that Ahote?" his friend asked nervously.

"He never said we couldn't," he answered, allowing himself a small smile.

"What can I do my love?" Powaqa asked from his shoulder.

He turned and gently cupped her face, "have Tiponi and Chusa begin collecting wood. I fear we won't have time to make the clay necessary for stronger walls."

She nodded and turned with purpose.

An hour later Ahote stopped strategizing with his three best warriors to watch the four minor elders return to the Chieftain's adobe. Though he felt nothing but disdain for the elders and their blindness, he was still instilled with enough teachings about the Kachinas to be compelled to witness his first calling ceremony.

Minutes later the elders, followed by Makya, filed out of the chiefs' adobe behind five of their young protégés, dressed in ceremonial costumes. The calling costumes were large boots made thick with lace, a long loin cloth, and feathered wings. But what made each Kachina costume special was the elaborate mask and headdress, said to mimic the appearance of their protectors.

The ceremony wore on and Ahote began to lose interest. _I should be helping the braves build bow blinds, not watching this charade!_ He thought bitterly. But before he could move Makya began to move to the center of the dance circle. In front of the fire he opened a small box of a design and material Ahote had never seen. And from it came the light of the sun, shooting up and piercing the night black sky. Ahote heard the sounds of amazement coming from all around him, and it took him a second to realize he was making the same _oohs_ and _aahs_ as everyone else. What could he say? The display was nothing short of divine. But as the light began to fade he kept waiting for the gods to ride down from the stars as they had in ages past…but nothing. He was angry at himself for expecting anything more.

Ahote was up before the sun. He moved down to the rock piles at the entrance to the pueblo that would be manned by the last line of defense before they would be fighting amongst the adobes. He found Chua and squeezed his shoulder.

"Did you get any rest Ahote?" His best friend asked.

"A little my friend. I see the moon wasn't with us tonight. Could you see anything?" He knelt down beside him as he asked.

"Nothing. Well I take that back. I saw three stars fall to Earth just beyond Horsehead Mesa about an hour ago," he pointed to the solitary structure about twenty miles away.

"Maybe it's the gods?" He saw Ahote's dubious expression and laughed…nervously.

Ahote returned the chuckle. "We can always hope Chua…sun will rise soon, I will climb to Mogollan overlook. "See you before the battle." They clasped forearms and Ahote turned to leave, feeling his way through the dark.

Thirty minutes later the sun was up and its light revealed all he feared; thousands of Navajo warriors milling about at the edge of the valley below leading up to Awatovi. He bit his bottom lip until he tasted warm bitterness. He did not fear death, or the pain it would bring, but he would be lying if he said he didn't want another day with his wife, and their infant son. As much as he despised the Navajo at this moment, he knew they were not the Comanche of the far east. They would allow the women and children to be subsumed into the tribe, along with all the men who volunteered to lay down their arms. His wife would be married to a Navajo warrior and his son would be raised without any memory of his real father… _curse the Navajo!_

The Great Mystery answered his anguish as he felt the small hand of Powaqa on his back. He turned to see his wife's worried face. "What are you doing here?" He grabbed her shoulders harder than he meant.

"I wanted to see you…I did not know they were so close." She said, hurt by his reaction.

He softened his tone and moved one hand up to her cheek. "They are. I would've come to see you Po, I love you so much. But right now I need you to round up the women and children and move them down to the old place of the Anasazi."

She grabbed his hand in her own and affirmed his wishes with her eyes. He heled her face to his for a long minute before she parted, moving expertly back down the rocks.

Ten minutes later, his war paint on his face and chest and his battle feathers tied with a small stone behind his ear. The Hopi war chief moved down to the row of arrow blinds that lined the small uphill path that led to their sacred village. He moved behind all the warriors placing a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders. They had no chance, he knew as well as they did. All they could do now was make them bleed for it.

He looked at the Navajo war chief a hundred yard away, rearing his horse and swinging his tomahawk over his head.

"They have come to take or homes…will you let them?" He said to his two dozen warriors. A firm "no!" came back from all of them.

"Do not waste arrows. Wait till they pass lizard rock before firing." This time it was a firm "yes!" And with that Ahote raised his own stone tomahawk and let out the rarely used Hopi war cry. He hung the tomahawk off his belt and readied his own bow. He was the best shot in the valley, but to live this day they truly would need the gods.

The Navajo bounded across the rocky plain, each of the lead horsemen kicking up a plume of dust that disguised their numbers and would provide a natural screen against Ahote's men. Well most were boys really, and they were growing skiddish as the whoops and war cries reached their ears.

"hold!" he yelled, knocking an arrow.

Finally the Navajo stood in their saddle and readied their bows, giving them the extra target they needed. "Now!"

A volley of arrow loosed across the morning sky…only two found purchase, and one of those was in the shoulder of a tough brave who dropped his bow but was now swinging his tomahawk with his good arm. Ahote's was the only one that cause a fatality.

Before his men could ready another arrow the Navajo volley landed with dinks and thuds. One cry went up and Ahote looked to see Hanilo holding the base of his neck where the arrow entered.

"Fire one more and then ready your weapon!" Ahote called.

The Navajo horses were close enough to hear pant when his braves fired their second volley. Three, four, no five Navajo fell that to the ground. Good…but not enough. Ahote called for his horse quickly and mounted it as it trotted by. He let out the loudest, and bravest war cry he could muster as he reared his best horse, Shutalo, and bounded into the Navajo line. He ducked the first blow, clipping the horse's knee with his tomahawk as it passed, and the rider went flying as his horse face planted into the ground. The next rider tried to return the favor but Ahote jumped Shutalo, striking down at the rider's head as they passed. He felt the thud and vibration of a good strike but didn't see the outcome. He swung the tomahawk back into the ready position, but this time he was flanked. As a Navajo rider neared he leapt from his horse into Ahote while another rider rammed his horse into Shutalo and the three of them spilled to the ground in an incredible tangle of human, horse, and dirt.

Ahote got lucky in the way he landed and was up first. He struck down the warrior who had tackled him as he went to get up. The other rolled away as Ahote's bloody tomahawk came down next to him. The painted Navajo swung at him and Ahote ducked swinging backhanded for his attacker's stomach but his blade was kicked away. The man charged swing ferociously but under control. Ahote side stepped the first swing and met the second with his own and their stone tools clashed as they hooked each other's weapons and it became a struggle of strength. The Navajo was bigger than Ahote but Ahote was angrier. A brave defending his home was always angrier than the man fighting to take it. A headbutt later and Ahote buried his blade in the side of the warrior's neck.

He ripped it out and let the man fall to the red dirt. He looked up towards Awatovi and saw the last of his archers fall to a long spear through the chest. He briefly thought if Chua and his family before saying a final prayer to the absent gods.

He mounted an injured Shutalo and begged him to charge, to which the loyal horse answered the best he could. A half a minute later he was charging back up the hill to the fighting in Awatovi when a star shot from the top of one of the adobe's and flew through the torso of a Navajo warrior before disappearing into the earth. Then another star! And another! All taking out the enemy

Ahote was speechless. Suddenly on top of the adobe where the first star had erupted from appeared a god…a Kachina to be exact. And not a brother dressed up as one. This kachina had to be taller than the tallest two warriors standing on each other's shoulders. He had the mask and headdress of black feathers that the kachinas were said to wear but they looked little like the one's made by the shaman's wives. And in his hand he held a shiny club that magically grew into a long sharp spear, and then he jumped from the roof into the battle, throwing Navajo soldiers every which way.

Within moments another Kachina materialized out of thin air. This one was a little shorter but held something that looked like a whip made from heat rock, the deity let out a spine tingling cry and leapt into the fray… _The gods Ahote had forsaken were here!_

He let out the loudest war whoop he could and spurred his lame horse into the confused ranks.

Within minutes the bravest of the Navajo still on his horse turned and charged back down into the valley and disappeared over the horizon. Ahote looked at the tallest Kachina standing, his spear held upright as Hopi from around the village began to fall to their hands and knees around the old gods. Ahote was bloody and breathing heavy but couldn't move for a minute. The skygod cocked his helmeted head at him and Ahote realized he was still holding his bloody tomahawk…he let it fall to the earth and climbed down off Shutalo. The Kachina was joined by his skybrothers and Ahote let go of his disbelief and bitterness, and fell to the ground like everyone else, worshipping their saviors.

Ahote had just enough time to check on Chua and his family as they returned from the Anasazi village before Makya called Ahote into the elder's house. He had led the biggest Kachina into the adobe minutes earlier. The other two vanished into thin air again. As Ahote entered he saw a series of glyphs drawn into the dirt that the Kachina was kneeling over. He couldn't really stand to his full height in here

"Ahote come" the old man beckoned him closer.

Ahote was close enough now to get a good look at their savior and he had the skin of a lizard.

"The Kachinas say a great change is coming to the land and they can no longer come to our aid".

"What? Why!? You just returned" Ahote snapped louder than he meant to, and the giant sky lizard rose, craning his neck as his black headdress hit the ceiling.

Makya put a warning hand on his shoulder. "This is to be celebrated Ahote. The Kachinas have done all they can for our people and believe we are ready to live in this new age without them".

Ahote nodded out of respect but still had questions. "Thank you my god, but the Navajo will return. Maybe not in my lifetime but my son".

Makya stopped him again with a wry smile and shake of his head. He pointed to a glyph on the ground that made no sense to Ahote. "Whatever change is coming is like nothing we or the Navajo have ever seen. The eastern tribes will have as much to do as us if we are to flourish in this new age".

Ahote thought about asking something else but thought better of it. Instead he just bowed his head. When he raised it the Kachina took a step towards him and unhooked something from his belt. It was like nothing he had seen before but Ahote got the sense it was a weapon. Ahote let the giant taloned hand drop it into his own. It was practically weightless. The giant bent down to draw something else. Once he was done Makya bent down as well to read it. "He says this will protect the people, and that it should only be used in the direst circumstances."

The lizard god pointed to another drawing insistently. Makya looked over his shoulder at Ahote. "He says our most sacred duty is protecting this weapon. Making sure it never falls outside our care".

Ahote realized the honor and gave his most solemn nod. With that the Kachina stood one last time, and disappeared. Leaving only some waves not unlike the desert horizon in summer, and then even that was gone a moment later.

 **Epilogue**

"Chief elder! Chief elder! Your son has retuned!" came the cry from outside the council adobe. Ahote looked at the star weapon in his old wrinkled hands one last time, before putting the Kachina gift back in it's box, and the box back in secret hole in the adobe's floor. His wife Powaqa, whom time had been far kinder to, helped him to his feet and out into the dusk light of Awatovi.

He saw the strong figure of his adult son and new war chief, Tocho, ride up on his horse.

"Father" he said, lowering his head in deference as he dismounted his horse.

"What is so urgent my son?" he asked as Tocho kissed his mother beside him.

Tocho turned back to his father and put a loving hand on his shoulder. "My scouts have made contact with strange beings".

Ahote's old heart skipped a beat. "Kachinas?" he asked hopefully.

Tocho shook his head ruefully. "We don't think so father. They do not look like the lizard men. Instead, these men are white as the snow and wear shiny helmets on top of their head, not over their face".

Ahote processed this with his chin in hand. "I see. Tomorrow we will send men to meet these pale men".

"That's the other thing father. I have heard that Sowingwa and Qochata thought the same as us and went to greet them as Kachinas…only to be killed with fire weapons. Fire weapons like the star maker but not as great".

Ahote took a bit longer with this news, "I see. We will send those men to the east instead. If we are to beat back this new threat than all the peoples of the red rocks will have to work together."

Powaqa helped Ahote back to the council adobe. The last thing he heard was his son tell his best warriors that they will beat this new enemy with the strength of the Kachinas.


End file.
